Will, the puppy
by natjrrt24
Summary: Hannibal goes hunting and something unexpected happens. He finds a boy who was kept on a leash like a dog in the victim's house. Hannibal thinks about killing him, because he can not afford to have witnesses but then, he looks into the eyes of the boy and everything changes. Very sad in the begining, but it gets fluffy eventually. No Beta, sorry about the mistakes.
1. Chapter 1

**Will, the Puppy - Chapter 1**

The reason why Hannibal Lecter was inside a car parked on a street corner in a disgusting neighborhood at two in the morning was simple indeed. He was hunting.

Earlier that afternoon, the psychiatrist went to the Coffee Shop near his office. He had a cup of coffee in his hand. Precious coffee, hot and sweet. It is no secret that a good coffee greatly improves a person's mood and Hannibal had to agree. After listening to the bullshits of his patients all day long, he loved to be able to give himself that pleasure. He always took the coffee cup from the barista's hands with a small smile, and maybe not even Hannibal knew that.

Hannibal was leaving the shop, walking towards the curb where his car was parked. His blond hair was tousled by the unexpected wind and his amber eyes had to adjust to sunlight, but he didn't mind. He was in good mood. After all, the day was sunny, Franklyn Froideveaux had canceled his appointment (thank God ), and he finally had his precious coffee. Nothing, absolutely nothing could ruin this day. Except...

He had not seen the man coming towards him cause he was taking a sip of his coffee, happy and carefree. They collided. In a split second Hannibal had coffee in his hair and his suit was, in a word, ruined.

The Ripper inside him only took a second to analyze the situation. That Pig in front of him was wearing a dirty pair of jeans with grease stains and his jacket was not in better conditions. He was tall and out of shape, his hair was cut in military style and he reeked of cheap beer. The man looked at Hannibal with drunken eyes.

Hannibal could have forgiven the crash, Hannibal could have forgiven the fact that he just had a bath of coffee and the fact that one of his favorite suits were ruined. Part of this was his fault cause he was not paying attention. Accidents can always happen. But then the man had to seal his fate being rude.

"Watch where you walk! Asshole!" He screamed and spat in Hannibal's shoes.

Hannibal held his breath. "1,2,3,4 ..." he mentally counted to ten and smiled. He had made his decision.

"I'm sorry, sir." He said to the man who snorted and walked away limping.

Hannibal threw the empty cup in a dumpster nearby and watched as the man crossed the street and walked toward his old truck, which he got inside. Hannibal took a pen from the inside pocket of his jacket and wrote in his hand the number of the plate of the car of his soon-to-be prey as he walked away from that street towards his office.

A quick internet research revealed to him that the car belonged to Andrew Webber, age 40, retired soldier. He had quit because of an injury that left him lame in one leg. He worked at a car repair shop and lived in Baltimore. He had no wife or children. Easy prey. Hannibal managed to find Andrew's address in less than five minutes of research. Funny things you can find on the internet. This Andrew Webber would pay for his rudeness, just in time, because Hannibal's fridge was getting empty.

Hannibal remained inside his car 'til right time, whence he could see the house of his prey. Hannibal was patient. He waited until all the house lights were off and then he waited a little longer, allowing time until Webber was asleep.

The Cheesapeake Ripper raised.

Hannibal got out of the car and opened the trunk. He grabbed his briefcase with all the necessary apparatus to kill his prey and turns it into something of value, since this was his work: taking from the society these lowly creatures. Killing Andrew Webber was a favor that he paid to the world. A brief research on the internet also told him that he had been arrested a few times for inappropriate behavior near a school. That was an understatement to say that he was a pervert. Hannibal never saw himself as a vigilante, but he felt a special pleasure in killing his prey when he knew that the victim was not a victim at all. He walked calmly to that house across the street and into the darkness of the night. No one saw him.

The Ripper reached the back door of the house. He wore latex gloves and a plastic apron. He wouldn't get dirty with that pig's blood and leave any trace. He turned the doorknob, finding it open. Again, easy prey.

The back door opened into the kitchen. The disgusting smell that invaded his sensitive nose was almost enough to make him puke. The whole house looked like a pigsty. Papers were thrown to the floor, just like pizza boxes and old newspapers. What a filth place.

Webber lived alone, then he would have no problem in killing him in his own house. He found the stairs to the second floor and climbed it with no difficulty in the darkness. There were three doors upstairs, Hannibal tested one by one, until he find Webber's bedroom.

Silently, he got in the bedroom and saw the man was fast asleep, snoring loudly. The smell of sweat and beer were poignant and Hannibal mused that perhaps the man was in an alcoholic coma.

Hannibal placed his briefcase on the floor and grabbed his beloved silver sharp scalpel. He smiled again, remembering the play "Sweeney Todd" that he had attended and cheered up that same week.

"These are my friends, See How They glisten. See this one shine, How he smiles in the light. My friend, my faithful friend ... " he sang softly regardless of whether the man were waking up or not, after all, he should be so high that Hannibal doubted he would wake when he finally cut his throat.

He approached the bed with the scalpel in his hand and he was right, Webber didn't opened his eyes as Hannibal cut his throat and saw his blood squirting. Soon, Webber was dead, the sheets were wet and red underneath him.

The killer smiled. He loved that part.

He had walked away from the body. Now he had work to do. He returned to where he had left his briefcase on the floor and knelt. For now he would need other tools to get the organs that he would prepare carefully and savor with delight after making his art. He wiped his scalpel when something caught his eye. Hannibal heard a noise in the room, so low that if it were not for his acute hearing, he would not have noticed. It was a sound like a whining dog. He stood slowly paying attention because he did not know whence the sound came from. Then he heard it again and realized that the sound came from under the bed.

He held his scalpel tight and silently approached the bed again. The sheets touched the floor and hid who or what was there, then Hannibal had to bend down and with a quick motion, he lifted the sheet.

Hannibal knelt and looked. He had to stifle a surprised expression.

Under the bed was a boy, or at least that creature looked like one. He was huddled, lying on the cold hard floor in a foetal position. He had his eyes shut tight, he was shaking, that sound that Hannibal thought to be a dog were actually a sobbing boy.

A witness? Who was that boy? That was not in his plans. The files said Webber lived alone.

Hannibal was angry. How could he miss that. He was so calm and sure that this would be an easy job, that had missed the most basic rule, check the place.

What would he do with this boy now? This was a setback, an obstacle which he would have to get rid of.

Angry, Hannibal leaned over and with his free hand he tried to reach the boy, but the boy started screaming and thrashing. Angrier, Hannibal almost went under the bed too, stretching his body to be able to pick up the boy. When he finally managed to reach the boy's arm, the boy had struggled even more, but Hannibal was stronger and managed to drag him out of the bed, squeezing his wrist to the point of making him scream.

Hannibal was angry. He was angry with himself for being careless and he was angry with the boy. Yes, he was angry with the boy. Why did he had to be there to disrupt Hannibal? The Ripper hated setbacks. Hannibal drew him away from the bed, he was half blind by rage, and he would have dragged the boy outside the room if something hadn't made him stop. It was as if the boy had clung on something not to be dragged, but no. When Hannibal looked back, he realized that the boy had a collar on the neck, attached to a chain tied to the bedpost.

Hannibal looked at him for a moment and went into shock.

The boy was naked, dirty from head to toe, his little body curled up like a ball. His skin was pale and even with that poor lighting, he could see that his body was covered with bruises and wounds and his black hair was curly and covered his forehead. He was not a child, he should have fifteen years old, or something close to that. He was thin and smelled like the bathroom was a forbidden thing.

Hannibal would kill him, he really would kill him.

The boy cowered and trembled as if Hannibal was the devil himself. The boy tried to get back to under the bed, but Hannibal held him tight by the shoulders and for a second their eyes met and... everything changed.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Will, the Puppy - Chapter 2**

Those eyes were sapphire blue. Big blue eyes, frightened and wet, he stared at Hannibal with the most miserable of the looks. Hannibal had never seen eyes like that, the fear in those eyes was something almost palpable. He saw fear, he saw pain, he saw a broken creature.

Hannibal enjoyed looking into the eyes of his victims and see the fear. The fear that his victims felt gave him pleasure. But the fear in the eyes of that boy caused him a different feeling. He felt pity.

He did not like that.

Hannibal tightened his grip on the boy's arms and suddenly the boy was silent and motionless, stopping crying, just sobbing and shaking from head to toe.

"Who are you?" Hannibal asked, his voice intimidating and the boy remained silent, sobbing. "Who are you?" Hannibal shook his shoulders harder and the boy tensed and started to hyperventilate.

Oh, great!

"Hey boy. Breathe." Hannibal didn't know what else to say. He was caught off guard by this situation. "Come on, breathe."

The boy seemed increasingly terrified by Hannibal.

The killer was still holding the boy by the shoulders and was starting to get worried. In a similar situation, he would have gotten rid of the witness, but he was frozen. He did not know why, but he just could not think clearly. He was worried, worried about the boy.

Hannibal then looked at his collar. It was a leather collar, but it had a padlock. In amazement he noticed that there was a silver dog's plaque there. He reached out to touch the plaque and the boy froze. Ignoring this, Hannibal reached the plaque and turned it. There was only one thing written on it. Will.

"Will? Is that your name? " Hannibal asked and the boy did not answer. Hannibal hissed before saying in a firm voice. "Listen to my voice, Will. Breathe. I will not hurt you. See how I breathe? Follow me."

And to give an example, Hannibal breathed slowly a couple times. The boy looked at him and suddenly began to calm down, slowing his breathing.

"Good, very good." Hannibal said, calmer too.

The boy tried to pull from his hands again, and he succeeded this time, but he fell seated on the floor and he ended up looking at the bed where Webber's body laid lifeless. His eyes widened and the boy turned to Hannibal with an expression he could not decipher what it was. Then to his surprise, the boy spoke in a voice so low it was barely a whisper.

"Did you kill him?" His eyes were filling with tears.

Holy shit. What Hannibal could say?

"Yes." he replied dry.

At that moment, the boy ran up to him. For a moment, his predatory instincts told him that maybe the boy would attack him to avenge the dead man, but Hannibal was more than surprised to see that the boy had thrown himself to his feet, bowed in reverence.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you ..."

Hannibal could not believe what was happening to him. The boy was a victim, a real victim. Judging by his dismal state and his reaction to seeing the corpse, he was being brutalized by this man since a long time.

Hannibal looked at the corpse. He would not do anything, he would not make his art. He turned away from the bowed creature in front of him, he put his knife back in his bag and lift it off the floor. He would go away. He went to the door, but then he turned and looked at the boy. Will. He was repeating "Thank you" again and again. Hannibal could have just gone out and left the boy there. Maybe he would call the police informing strange noises in the house. The police would find the body, and since he had done nothing but cut his throat, it was not technically a crime of the Ripper. The police would find the boy and take care of him. He was so broken that no one would believe anything the kid said, if he managed to say anything. They would take him to the hospital and take care of him. At most, they would put the blame on the kid, but the crime would come as self-defense, then all would be fine. The boy would be fine. However, Hannibal felt something that he wasn't used to feel. Guilt.

He felt no guilt in killing, no. But he felt responsible for the boy now, somehow. He could not just walk out the door as if the boy was not there, as if he didn't needed help.

"I'll end up regretting doing this. I know that." Hannibal said and reached into his briefcase for two pieces of wire.

When he found them, he approached the boy who flinched reflexively.

"Look, Will. I will not hurt you, you hear me?" He leaned over and started to touching the collar and the boy froze again. Hannibal made a mental note that the boy did not like to be touched.

With the skill that years of hunting gave him, Hannibal managed to quickly unlock the padlock on the collar, releasing him.

"Don't move." Hannibal commanded and the boy obeyed. He imagined that Will should be used to taking orders.

He went to the cupboard that stood in the corner. There was not much he could use, but he managed to find a not-so-dirty blanket. He went back to the boy and wrapped the blanket around him, covering his nakedness.

"What am I gonna do with you?" He said sighing.

The answer seemed clear by then.

5


	3. Chapter 3

**Will, the Puppy - Chapter 3**

Hannibal Lecter's car was parked in his driveway. He gripped the steering wheel for a moment and looked in the rearview mirror. Will, the puppy, was in the back seat, shrunk and wrapped in a blanket. Needless to say it was a battle to take the little one out of that house because the boy was too weak to walk down the stairs but he did not want Hannibal to touch him and carry him to the car. After half an hour of trial and fail, Hannibal managed to grab the boy by the waist lifting him off the floor with ease and throwing him over his shoulder, since Will was just skin and bone. The boy struggled and screamed as expected, but Hannibal was able to carry him out of the room and out of the house.

Hannibal opened the car door and got out. He stood there, outside the car, as if thinking about something, then suddenly he opened the backseat door and got back in the car, sitting near the boy. Hannibal just stared at him. The psychiatrist realized that Will was actually older than he was thinking he was. Instead of fifteen, maybe the boy was eighteen years old, because now that he was watching close he could see a stubble on his jaw. The obvious malnutrition made him look smaller. Will shrugged and leaned against the opposite door, trying to get away from Hannibal as possible as he could given the confined space. His gaze was extremely frightened, yes, but Will did not struggle, he just leaned tense at the door.

"Look, Will." Hannibal began to say after a while. "You were not in my plans for tonight. I don't know how much you are aware of what had happened ... "

"You've killed him. Thank you." Will interrupted Hannibal with trembling voice, expressing his gratitude once again, and for the second time that night Hannibal couldn't help but feel awkward. Will was the first person who had seen Hannibal being... Hannibal ... being the Ripper, and his reaction was this, gratitude. Hannibal shook his head and said with a heavy voice.

"Answer me Will. Are you aware of what is happening? I just killed your father. "

"He was not my father." Will said, his voice heavy with sadness and he shrank even more, as if the mere memory of that man could hurt him. Hannibal felt a bad thing, a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. "That was the Bad Man. He stole me from my family. He said I was his... puppy ."

"Well, anyway, what I'm trying to tell you, my little one..." This was the first of many times that Hannibal called Will so. "I'm in a difficult position now. You've probably noticed that I have no problem with killing people, so don't think you're safe so easy. I have thousands of reasons to protect my privacy at any cost, if you know what I mean." He said with intimidating voice, which was a challenge because eye contact with Will was like falling off a very high place. "So tell me just one reason why I shouldn't hit the road now. take you into the woods and finish what I started in that filthy house. Witnesses are something that I can't afford."

"Do you want to kill me too? Okay, i don't care." Will said looking at the floor of the car. "I tried a few times, but I think you can do it better than me." Will said letting a tear fall from his face.

"How long have you been with him?"

"I don't know. I was little."

Hannibal felt that twinge in his stomach again. What was that? Pity? Guilt? What? Will was something totally different from anything he have seen before. Nothing, absolutely nothing compared to this boy with messy hair and frightened blue eyes wrapped in a blanket in his car. This kid had seen through his mask as if it had never been there. He thanked the murder of his tormentor as a hungry man thanks for a piece of bread and now he embraced his probable premature death. Hannibal pondered that Little Will must have been so tortured and brutalized that he had already accepted the idea of his own death long ago.

The psychiatrist could imagine the horrors that Will had to face, to think that killing himself would be the only way out. Hannibal imagined that poor little thing lying in the cold floor, huddled and shivering, listening to Webber's footsteps climbing the stairs. He imagined the boy in all his despair, praying for something sharp to be forgotten near him someday. Not to defend himself from Webber, but to kill himself.

Hannibal diverted his gaze. Look to Will made him lose focus.

"I believe, Will, you have noticed that if I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead already." Hannibal punctuated with seriousness in his voice.

The boy just nodded.

"Well, I am a person who likes to plan everything. I hate setbacks. They make us act on impulse, loose control and everything always ends up a mess." Hannibal rubbed his eyes for a moment. "I want to get into my home and think about it calmly."

Will nodded again, sniffling.

Hannibal opened the car door and got out, closing it with a bang. He walked around the car and opened the door for Will. Hannibal reached out to the boy to hold his hand, but he just shrunk even more.

"You think you can walk?" Hannibal asked strangely changing his tone to something more soft.

Will lowered his head and broke into silent tears again.

It was there, at that very moment that the heart of the heartless monster first beat. He was feeling it since their eyes had met for the first time, but since he never felt like this he was tempted to ignore it or pretend it was something else. He didn't know the pain that he was feeling was not his own, but another person's pain. It was there, as he looked at that little creature who couldn't even stand on his feet. Hannibal felt the unprecedented urge to comfort, to protect, to care. It was a catharsis.

"My little one." Hannibal said again, without realizing that this was the beginning of his downfall.

Hannibal leaned up and took the boy in his arms. The boy struggled, of course, but Hannibal did not hesitate as he did before and held him, taking him from the car and carrying Will like a bride, walking away from the car and into the house. Will stopped struggling after a while and to Hannibal's surprise, he rested his head on his chest.

"What is your name?" Hannibal heard the boy ask, his voice was muffled.

"Hannibal." He said with a serious expression.

He felt the boy sigh .

"My name is not Will. I can't remember what's my name, but you can call me Will if you want to." Hannibal frowned, and as if the boy could see his expression, he quickly amended "It's better than puppy."

5


	4. Chapter 4

**Will, the Puppy - Chapter 4**

Will could not remember exactly when it happened, when did the Bad Man came into his life. It seemed it was an eternity ago. Will was seven or eight years old, he was not sure.

The boy remembered that he had a family once, and he was happy. He remembered a very pretty woman in a kitchen, she prepared him something to eat and she sang as she walked into the kitchen with the grace of a fairy. He remembered a man who carried him in his arms and sometimes made him to sleep, telling him stories about fairies and wolves. He even remembered he had a dog, Winston was the name, he was sure. He vaguely remembered these things, as a person who remembers a film and just cling to the context and not to the details. In fact, all the memories before it all happened, before the bad man catch him, were like another person's memories, like a story that had been told to him, as if it never really happened to him. How could such good memories belong to someone so broken?

However, everything that happened after that was firmly etched in his memory. Will still could remember the first day, the terror he felt while the man dragged him up the stairs towards that bedroom. The bad man said he belonged to him cause his parents didn't want him anymore. He said that Will had been a very bad boy and his parents sent him to be punished. So he belonged to Bad Man now, and since he was doing the charity to keep Will, he would do whatever he wanted, and Will could not complain. The man took off his clothes and put that collar on his neck.

"You're my little puppy now." Will could still see the smirk on the Webber's face. He said that his name would be Will now, but eventually he just call the boy puppy.

Will could remember that Webber hit him that day, so hard that Will fainted. "Why is this happening?" He thought in despair as his owner beat him. "What have i done to deserve this? Why my parents don't want me anymore? Was I a bad boy? I can be good again. If he stops hitting me and hear me, I can tell him that I'll be good. I want to go home." But Will could not speak because Webber haven't stop hitting him until the boy was unconscious.

In the first days, it was basically like this. The boy woke up and there was no inch of his body that was not aching. By the morning, Webber threw him a piece of pizza for him to eat. It was rotten and he ate in disgust but he did anyway because there would be nothing to eat until Webber returned at night. His stomach ached with hunger, but this was a pain that he learned to ignore over the days. Will could't leave that room, never. His collar was attached to a chain. His owner let him out once a day so the boy could use the bathroom and it was only then that he could walk and stretch his body a bit, otherwise, he would remain sitting or lying on the floor, waiting to be beaten. That's how he found out that the less he drank water, less uncomfortable it would be to expect to be released to use the bathroom, then he was always thirsty. So when night fell, Will would heard the noise of the car of his owner and he would tremble in fear. Webber would get in the room and beat Will, he would throw him another disgusting piece of pizza and lay on his bed to sleep. Will slept on the cold floor. He crawled to under the bed because it was like a shelter, where he could not see anything or be seen. Every night he cried praying to wake up in his bed at his home, with his parents and his dog Winston, but no matter how much he prayed, he always woke up in that room with the collar hurting his neck.

The first days elapsed in absolute terror. Then the bad thing began to happen. Nightly. It was painful and humiliating and once again Will thought "What have i done so wrong anyway? I have not been punished enough? Why my parents don't come to pick me? I want to go home, all i want is to go home..." He cried, but Webber never heard it.

The boy had never been bent before a good fight, at least that he could do. He kicked, screamed, bit, kicked, scratched, he did everything not to let the bad thing to happen, but he was only a child, small and weak, and there was nothing he could do about it.

The days became weeks, weeks became months and when the months began to pass, Will began to lose track of things. Suddenly, he could not remember the faces of his parents, or what day it was, and even his own name. All he knew was that his owner would come at night and hurt him if he didn't let the bad thing happen. Will had no hope and no dreams. Everything was a big nightmare from which he knew he would never wake up.

As time went on, Will stopped fighting and talking. No reason to do so, it was a waste of time and breath. When Webber threw him on the bed to do the bad thing he did not fight anymore. He just stood still, trying to make his brain turns off. Sometimes he could do that, sometimes he couldn't, but it was hard while Webber kept telling him he was a slut. One day he realized that his body was different than it was before. He was taller and he had hair growing where he never had hair before. That was how he knew it was no longer a child, but a teenager.

The first time Will had tried to kill himself was a few years later and it was a mess. He had found a bottle of bleach in the bathroom when Webber had unleash him, and he just drank the product. He vaguely remembered that it was one of the things that children could not touch because it was dangerous, then with logic he thought it would do the trick. He was wrong. Will was on the brink of despair. He simply could no longer live like that. Will tried again several times after that, always failing.

Will had already accepted the fact that he had died in some point of this torture and that it was hell indeed. As one of those things that you hear and never forget, Will once heard even so young, that the definition of Hell is the repetition of something terrible that had happened in your life. Then there was a hell, and Will was in it.

He did not dream. He had terrible nightmares every night and he always woke up screaming and crying, only to be punched by Webber who yelled at him to go to back sleep. But Will could not sleep anymore, when he slept the monsters came and caught him, and it was not just one, but a lot of monsters all at once.

That night, Webber had gotten drunker than usual and he didn't bothered to drag Will out from under the bed to throw him on the bed and do the bad thing. He just got in the room and collapsed on the bed, forgetting the existence of his puppy. Will was glad about it, even if it meant he wouldn'd eat, it was still better than be raped.

The boy was sleeping, but woke up when he heard footsteps in the house. Will was always on guard. He was a very light sleeper (or he didin't sleep at all). Instead of warning his owner that there was an intruder in the house, like a good puppy should do, Will remained silent and paralyzed. He heard the door being open and those steps were inside the room. He heard a man sing something softly and Will began to tremble with fear. What would he do?

Then all was quiet.

Will began to think that all this had been his mind playing a prank. It was nothing new. He was so tired of it, all he wanted was to disappear. The boy began to cry. He was so broken, tired, hungry. All he wanted was to die.

It was then that it happened.

Hannibal had moved the sheet and for a moment Will thought he was a monster, a monster that had come to hurt him, just like Webber and the others. When Hannibal grabbed his arm and dragged him out the bed he thought it had finally happened, finally one of the monsters of his dreams had managed to find him and now it would be his end. But then, it was Hannibal.

When Hannibal grabbed his shoulders and shook him, he just panicked. He thought he was going to finally die. Then he saw Webber's dead body there with his bleeding throat. He could not believe it.

Hannibal was a monster, yes, but he was the monster who had saved him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Will, the Puppy - Chapter 5**

Hannibal carried Will through the house with ease. The psychiatrist was in great physical shape, and Will was nothing compared to dead weights that Hannibal used to carry. He carried the boy upstairs, leading him through the second floor hallway.

Will had become silent after they entered the house and when Hannibal stopped to look at his face, he saw that the boy had fallen asleep. He must be really exhausted, physically and mentally.

The psychiatrist stood there with the boy in his arms for a moment, thinking. What was he doing? Hannibal had never acted on impulse. He prided himself of his self control, after all, was thanks to this control and planning that Hannibal managed to be doing his art for so long without being caught. He kept repeating to himself that all this was the biggest mistake he could make: he had not only let this witness live, now he was bringing him into his house.

At that moment, he tried to convince himself that he should kill Will and that this would actually be an act of kindness. The boy was so broken, Hannibal thought that Will would not go to normal again. He had been conditioned by Webber, he had been tortured for so long, no treatment would be effective. Will was too traumatized, and that was the psychiatrist in him talking. If Hannibal did the right thing and took the boy to the hospital, they would send him to an asylum, maybe that one managed by Frederick Chilton, and Hannibal could not think about any other cruelty to do to the little one.

He should kill the boy. Hannibal would see the thing as if Will was indeed a very sick puppy who had to be sacrificed to not suffer anymore. Will was innocent, the most innocent creature that Hannibal had met on his way, he didn't have to suffer anymore. That was really the right thing to do, in fact, Hannibal could do it right there while the boy slept in his arms. Hannibal would be pious, Will wouldn't feel his neck being broken.

However, he contradicted common sense, logic and his survival instinct while he lead Will into his bedroom. He opened the door to the Master bedroom and came inside with Will in his arms, taking him directly to the bathroom. The bathroom was large and cold and when Hannibal closed the bathroom door behind him, Will shivered and woke. Hannibal gently placed him sitting on the toilet lid. He went to the big tub and turned on the faucet of hot water, testing the temperature of the water before returning to where the boy was and knelt down to be on the same level of Will's eyes. Hannibal reached out to take the blanket from the boy, but Will flinched in terror.

"Will, you're hurt and you stink. We'll take care of it before you get an infection." He said sympathetically, but he realized that maybe the kid had no idea what 'infection' meant. Then he added, "We have to clean your wounds. Can I take the blanket from you so I can take care of it? ".

Will shook his head and seemed to shrink even more. Again, Hannibal was invaded by the feeling that the boy needed comfort.

"My little one" Hannibal said softly. "I just want to look, I'm not going to hurt you."

Will seemed to think about it for a moment. Hannibal tried again and this time Will did flinched, but allowed Hannibal to undress him. He closed his eyes as if prepared to feel pain. Hannibal took the blanket from Will's shoulders, so that his pale body was exposed and Hannibal could not hold a hiss. Will was covered in old and new bruises, some cuts and scratches and several small scars. Nothing of that was really disturbing, Will didn't need stitches in the cuts and the bruises were healing.

Hannibal looked again at the little creature in front of him and he felt his newfound heart ache. Webber deserved to die, in fact, Hannibal reached the conclusion that he had been too pious to Webber. If the Ripper could go back in time, he would have done Webber suffers long before begging to die. Was Hannibal a murderer? Yes. Was Hannibal a monster? Of course he was, but he had a purpose. The Ripper attacked only the rude, at least he was doing a service to society by removing the scum. But Webber was just cruel.

Will was a child. A child, for God's sake! Small, fragile, unable to defend himself. Innocent until the last strand of his hair. It was ... wrong .

"Are you in pain, babe?" Hannibal asked really worried.

The boy lowered his head and nodded before breaking into tears again.

"Where does it hurt?" Hannibal approached the boy and, in one gesture that was totally spontaneous, he pushed a strand of hair out of Will's eyes to look at them.

"E-everywhere." Will replied sobbing.

"It's okay, you will take a bath now. This will make you feel better."

Hannibal got up and returned to the tub to see if that was full enough. He took off his jacket and lifted the sleeves of his shirt and tested the water again, it was at the right temperature. He returned to where Will was and raised his hands for the boy to see them before approaching and take the boy in his arms. When Hannibal had laid him in the water, the boy struggled.

"Shhh, calm down Will." Hannibal said holding the wrists of the boy who was already immersed in the water. The boy was terrified and started screaming. "What's the problem? The water is too hot or too cold?" Hannibal asked confused.

Hannibal noticed that Will kept his chin up in despair, he was afraid of drowning.

"Oh, I see, it's a lot of water." Hannibal asked and the boy nodded sobbing. "I am here, I will not let you drown." He tried to show security in his voice. It seemed to work and Will seemed to calm down a bit.

When Hannibal was sure Will was calmer, he pulled back a little to get a washcloth and a liquid soap bottle with lavender scent nearby the tub. First he soaped Will's back, rubbing the washcloth in his skin gently not to hurt the boy even more, but hard enough to let him clean. When he finished he made Will lean back against the tub so Hannibal could repeat the process on his chest. Again, Hannibal raised his hands for Will to see them before touching him. Will turned his face to the other side. He didn't want to see Hannibal touching his chest.

Hannibal cleaned his chest then he went to his legs. When Hannibal's hands began to get close to his hips, the boy struggled again.

"No! It hurts!" Will cried and tried to shrink.

"I'm just cleaning, Will." Hannibal said softly again. He realized that this was the best tone to speak to the boy.

When Hannibal touched Will on his private parts, he realized that the boy muffled his sobs.

"Shhhh" Hannibal said.

Hannibal had cleaned the whole body of the boy with the utmost delicacy. He pulled away again and grabbed two bottles. The first one was shampoo, Hannibal put some on his hands and massaged Will's hair to make sure it was clean. The smell that invaded the bathroom was also lavender. Then he used the conditioner, spreading the product on his black curls and incredibly Will did not complained about Hannibal's hand in his head, had was relaxed just like when Hannibal had carried him in his arms.

When Hannibal finished his task, he stood up and grabbed a white towel from the bathroom counter and he extend it in the toilet lid.

"Can you stand up?" Hannibal said with the right tone.

The boy looked at him with a dazed look. He was falling asleep, Hannibal could tell. A hot bath does wonders. The boy grabbed the edge of the tub and started trying to get up, but he slipped and fell sitting in the tub. Hannibal ran and held him in his arms.

"Come on." He said helping the boy to stand. Again Hannibal carried him, taking Will out of the tub and placing him sitting on the toilet lid. He took another towel from the counter and began drying Will. He wrapped the towel around the boy and with another towel he began to dry his hair. The boy did not like it and began to struggle again.

"Will, if you don't keep still, I will not be able to dry your hair." Hannibal argued and the boy stopped struggling.

"You own me now?" Will asked suddenly, intriguing Hannibal.

"Why would you ask that?"

"You killed him, my owner. He told me I would only leave his house when he came to die, or worse, when another one came to claim me." Will swallowed. "I'm yours now."

"No. You're not." Hannibal said bothered.

Hannibal then looked at Will. Cleaned, he looked really young. Another thing the bath had revealed was that the bruises were not so few as he was thinking at first.

Hannibal wrapped the towels around the boy and took him in his arms again, bringing him to his bedroom and placing him sitting on the bed. Hannibal went to his closet and looked for something that would fit the boy and found a dark blue pajamas. Maybe it would be big for Will, but it was the best he could do at that moment.

He approached the boy and showed him the nightwear.

"What do you think?" Hannibal smiled, but the boy looked away.

"I'm not allowed to wear clothes, it's a rule. If I disobey the rules I will be punished." Will was on the verge of tears again.

Hannibal sat down next to the boy, still with the pajamas in his hands. He stroked his hair.

"Those rules no longer apply. You are free now. "

The boy nodded and reached out to touch the soft fabric. Silk. Hannibal put the clothes in Will's hands and stood up, pulling away toward the bedroom door.

"I'll bring you something to eat."


	6. Chapter 6

**Will, the Puppy - chapter 6**

Hannibal went upstairs taking with him a tray with a light meal. Just a simple chicken soup, after all he didn't know how Will's body would react to a little more complex food after eating almost nothing fo so long. He tried the soup and found it was very good. He stopped occasionally to listen to any noise that came from upstairs, but during the half hour he took to made the meal, he didn't heard any noise coming from his bedroom. Everything was silent and Hannibal thought that maybe there was something wrong going on.

He was walking toward his bedroom where the boy was left alone and he was taken by thoughts.

What was he doing? Only that night he had killed a man, he had saved a boy, he had brought him to his house, he had bathed him and was now he was bringing chicken soup for him. Hannibal never imagined being able to do what he did. Something must be really wrong with his head. It was interesting to realize that when the two were apart he could think clearly and coldly, but it was just looking into those blue eyes and Hannibal was in a kind of trance state. When he looked into Will's eyes, all he wanted to do was to comfort and protect him. Not wanting to give reason to Webber (Burn in hell, you bastard! ), But Will's eyes made him look like a puppy, really. Hannibal have never been a fan of dogs, he always found they were lower creatures. He never understood the feeling people have said they felt when they looked to a little helpless puppy. Now he understood. This was the effect Will had over him. The impulse to protect and care, to do everything possible for that being - that was so helpless- to feel well and safe. But why Hannibal felt that? It went against every instinct of survival. Being cold-hearted and ruthless had been part of his life for so long that Hannibal didn't know how to react to these new feelings. H didn't even knew how to name then.

Trying not to think about it, Hannibal reached the door of his bedroom and opened it, just to find the room was empty.

"Will?" Hannibal said frowning.

Hannibal stepped into the bedroom. There was a small wooden table with two chairs, a table he used exactly for occasions when he had to ate in his bedroom (because eating in bed was so out of the question). He walked toward the table, placing the tray there and looked around.

"Will?" He approached the bed and saw that the shirt of that silk pajama was there, although the pants were not.

"Wi ..." He was going to call again starting to get really worried. A thousand things were going through his head at that moment and the worst one was that Will had gone. But then, he heard a noise coming from under the bed.

Hannibal let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He was relieved, he didn't know why he felt so relivied that Will had not gone, but he was. He ducked, just as he did a few hours ago and slowly lifted the sheet from his bed. Will was there, curled up in the fetal position. He was wearing pajama pants, at least he wasn't naked anymore. He had his eyes wide open and he was hyperventilating. He was having another panic attack. Hannibal could see the boy's face washed with tears. His heart broke to see him so scared.

"Will, come here." Hannibal said with soothing voice and reached for the boy to take his hand.

The boy looked at him with a desperate look, but unlike when Hannibal had found him at Webber's house and the boy had panicked and tried to flee, Will looked at him and began to approach. With trembling hands he took the hand Hannibal had offered and the doctor pulled the boy close.

Hannibal didn't know why felt the urge to do it, but he put his arms around the boy and hugged him while the boy cried and buried his face in his chest. The two were kneeling on the floor.

"What happened, my dear?" Hannibal asked concerned about the state of Will.

"You took so long ... I thought you were gone ..." Will said sobbing.

"I said I'd be back soon." Hannibal pulled back and looked into his eyes. "Were you afraid that I wouldn't come back, that I had abandoned you?"

"I thought it all had been a dream... that you weren't real, that the Bad Man would come back for me ..."

"So you hid under the bed?" Hannibal said as he stroked the curls of the boy who nodded. "I killed him, Will. He will not come back. You're safe."

"You promise?" Will sobbed. He looked at Hannibal with those big blue eyes. How come a kid who seemed to have something close to eighteen years old could look so childish at the same time? So helpless and in need of love?

Hannibal had a revelation in that moment. How could he have been so wrong. It was very obvious the feeling that was growing inside him all along this morning. It was Love . Plain and simple. Love. A kind of possessive-protective love, the love an owner has for his puppy. But Hannibal would not hurt his little one, no, he would give him the love that had been denied to him all these years of suffering. Hannibal would be affectionate and even if Will showed himself aloof at first, he would learn that he should not feel afraid anymore. No matter how much it would cost or if this was the worse decision of his life. Will was his, and nobody would take him away.

"I promise you, Will. Nobody will hurt you again. Never."

Hannibal hugged him again, stroking the curls of the boy who kept crying.

"Sshhh, it's okay now, my little one. I'll take care of you. I'll protect you. No monster will find you again. I will Kill anyone who dare to try, you know i can do it."

Will nodded and Hannibal made him sit on his lap. Not in a sexual context. He was cradling Will as if he was a baby. They stayed like that on the floor for a long time, in which Hannibal comforted Will. Hannibal whispered words of comfort as he hugged the boy rocking back and forth. Will seemed to calm down gradually, and all that Hannibal heard were Will's hiccups.

"I'm yours now?" Will asked sniffling after a long time of silence.

Hannibal smiled.

"Yes, Will. You're mine."


	7. Chapter 7

**Will, the puppy – Chapter 7**

Hannibal could not help but smile as he watched Will eating his chicken soup. It was no secret that the psychiatrist was a excellent cook and loved to see people eating his food, even though the people he invited to his famous dinners didn't know exactly the origin of that delicious meal. In part, it was very interesting to see people eating people, it was something macabre and poetic at the same time. But seeing Will eat and look at him like that ... that grateful look was just precious, but it would have been perfect if the chicken (which was actually a chicken, by the way) were a bit of Webber's flesh.

They were sitting on that small wooden table, facing each other and Will ate as if the plate was going to acquire legs and run away, as if someone would take the food from him. The boy was starving. Hannibal grimaced when he saw Will holding the spoon in such ungraceful way but he would forgive such behavior because he was still under the intoxicating effect of the catharsis he had, but later Hannibal would have to teach him manners at the table.

"Slowly. You don't want to have a indigestion." Hannibal warned but with a gentle tone.

The boy nodded without lifting his head to look at Hannibal. The psychiatrist had a hunch that this was the first decent meal the boy had in a long time, he was amazed that he had not died because of malnutrition. Will must be stronger than he thought at first.

"How's the soup? Good?"

"Yes, Master." Will said with a smile.

Hannibal frowned and looked at Will with a serious expression. The boy looked up and their eyes met and he noticed the change in the features of the older man. Will froze, fearing that he had said something wrong.

"Why did you call me that?" Hannibal said with a strange tone and Will felt a chill down his spine.

Hannibal was his master now, wasn't he? Will belonged to him. It was obvious that he would refer to the man as his master. In his view, every owner should be called master, or any other name that pleases the owner. That's what Webber taught him. But apparently Hannibal did not like that, the boy could see it in his eyes. Suddenly all the fear returned and the boy let his spoon fall on the plate with a clatter and looked away.

"Will, answer my question." Hannibal said with a serious tone.

"I. .." he started to say, but he stuttered "Y-You own me now, you're my Master ... " Will tried to explain.

Hannibal understood everything.

"That's how you called the Bad Man?"

Will nodded and lowered his head, looking away.

"If you want, I can call you something else. Is 'Daddy ' okay ?" He tried to fix the mistake he had made, but Hannibal seemed even more displeased.

The boy was wrong again? As far as he knew, calling his owner as Daddy was better than calling him Master, in certain ocasions, of course. But as time went on, he realized that the more he called Webber as Daddy, the less he beat Will. So logically, the boy thought that owners liked to be called that. But Hannibal seemed even more displeased and now Will was really worried that he had done something very wrong. Would Hannibal punish him?

But then, Hannibal rose from his chair, walked over to Will and knelt beside him with the most affectionate look that Will had ever seen.

"You're not my slave, Will." Hannibal said softly. "That man forced you to call him that names because that was a way he found to humiliate you. I'm not like him and I don't want you to call me as you called him."

Will nodded vehemently.

"So... how should I call you?" Will said measuring his words.

Hannibal smiled.

"Just Hannibal." Psychiatrist stood and stroked the boy's hair, looking at him affectionately. "Stay here and finish your soup, I'll be right back."

Hannibal pulled away and left the boy alone in the bedroom. He went down the stairs to the first floor and headed to his office. He kept some medications in his office in case of an emergency, and that was one . He searched in his drawers and found a bottle of Tylenol. He put the bottle in his pocket, went upstairs again and headed to his room.

While he was climbing the stairs, he couldn't stop thinking about Will's words. Master? Daddy? No, it was inhumane, even for Hannibal. The psychiatrist could imagine what kind of ocasions Webber demanded to be called Daddy and this send chills down his spine. He didn't want to Will saw him that way, like he had escaped from the hands of a monster to fall into the hands of another. Hannibal was a monster indeed, but not that kind of monster. Poor Will. That was the proof he had been tortured, physically and mentally. Hannibal wouldn't accept being compared to Webber. He would never do anything to hurt Will.

When Hannibal reached the door of his bedroom, he feared that Will had had another panic attack and had hid under the bed, but when Hannibal opened the door he found the boy exactly where he had left him, sitting at the table, waiting obedient as a puppy.

Hannibal smiled at the boy who smiled back. Hannibal walked to the bathroom and the boy watched him curious. Soon the older man was back bringing a glass of water. Hannibal approached him and looked at his plate.

"I see you have finished eating. Good. Do You want more? "

The boy refused shaking his head.

Hannibal placed the glass of water on the table and grabbed the bottle of Tylenol from his pocket and removed the lid, taking two pills and offering it to Will.

The boy looked to the suspicious pills and did not move to catch them.

"What?" Hannibal asked intrigued.

"I don't like drugs." Will answered in a very childish way, his voice low and trembling.

"The drugs will make you feel better." Hannibal said, but the boy still seemed worried and looked away.

"The Bad Man make me take drugs sometimes, so I didn't move as he did the Bad Thing to me."

Hannibal gaped. After a few seconds of paralysis, Hannibal managed to sit in the chair opposite to Will, who looked almost on the verge of tears again.

"Bad Thing?" Hannibal had an idea of what that meant, but he wanted to hear it from Will.

"He hurt me .. down there." Will replied with a trembling voice. Even Will being too young to understand what was happening, he knew it was a bad thing.

"Will ..."

"I tried not to let that happen, but ..." Will started crying.

"My little one ..."

Hannibal stood up, approached Will and pulled the boy close to him, hugging him tightly. He could not believe what Will was telling him, it was too horrible. Besides all that torture Webber had done, he also had drugged Will to rape him. It was not the first nor the last time that Hannibal wished Webber was back to life just to kill him again, and this time, with cruelty. He wanted to tell Will that he would never have to worry about it, that Hannibal never would touch him that way, ever, but he was speechless. For the first time in his life, Hannibal was speechless.

They were embraced for a while, until Will (and Hannibal himself) calm down. The psychiatrist departed from the hug and took the pills again and the glass of water.

"These are painkillers. You told me you were in pain, remember?" He said with soothing voice. "Do you trust me?"

Will looked at Hannibal for a moment analyzing these words, then nodded. Will could not explain why, but he trust Hannibal, the monster that killed monsters. Hannibal had something dangerous inside him, so Will could see perfectly, but at the same time, he felt protected by this man.

"Good. Now open your mouth. "

Will obeyed and Hannibal gently slid the two pills in Will's mouth, offering him the glass of water after that. The boy drank the whole glass in a gulp.

"Now, you need to rest."

Hannibal approached the boy and put his arm around his shoulders and brought him to the bed. Will struggled a bit, reflecting years of abuse, but soon he realized that Hannibal just wanted him to lie down to sleep. Hannibal made him lie down and covered him with a soft blanket and noticed that as soon as his head hit the pillow, the boy began to blink slowly.

Just three minutes later, the boy was fast asleep, finally, on a real bed.


	8. Chapter 8

**Will, the puppy – Chapter 8**

Hannibal had been unable to sleep. That was definitely one off the longest nights of his life. So much had happened, so much had changed inside him and he was still getting used to it. He was sitting in the armchair on his bedroom, watching Will sleeping in his bed. The boy was fast asleep and his face looked very calm and his heart was filled with peace because the boy was at peace.

What could he have done anyway? How could he refuse the boy when the fate offered him like that? Hannibal was not the kind of person to believe in luck, fate, God or anything, but he felt that somehow he had to have done that, he had to have killed Webber. It was meant to be. He felt that fate had plotted for him to have left that Coffee Shop in that very moment and that Webber had been rude enough so Hannibal would choose him as his prey. Everything that had happened the night before had been plotted by some higher force for Hannibal to find and rescue Little Will, there was no other explanation to that. Will was destined to be his.

Hannibal smiled at the irony of the situation. He didn't know how he would manage it, but he'd find a way, he always did.

The psychiatrist stood up from his armchair and walked a few steps to the nightstand on the left side of the bed. He opened the top drawer and grabbed his Tablet trying to make no noise that could wake the little one, but Will shifted and rolled on the bed laying on his side, facing Hannibal. The boy was still asleep and the curls of his hair were covering his eyes. Hannibal reached out and brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. The boy shuddered instinctively, but still seemed lost in his sleep. Hannibal smiled and walked toward the armchair again, sitting with the tablet in hands.

He researched on several websites of missing persons, but found nothing. No child who had a picture on these websites looked like Will. Was it possible that nobody was looking for him? Will had said he did not remember since when he was with Webber, perhaps for too long. He first tried the official website of the FBI, but had no luck. Then he tried other less official websites.

There was a NGO (Non-Governmental Organization) in Louisiana which had a website that helped to find missing children even after the police have given up, focusing on cold cases. After a long search in this website Hannibal found a picture of a little boy with curly black hair and impossible blue eyes. There was no mistaking, that was Will. Hannibal could never mistake those eyes with the eyes of another child.

Will's name was actually David Adams. He had disappeared from the gates of his school when he was eight years old, in September 2003, in Louisiana. His parents had spared no effort to find him. They had made posters, rallies, advertisements, they had published it in newspapers and they also had participated in radio talk shows, but they never found the little one. In 2005, they had died in a car accident, and since then no one have looked for the child. David had been presumed dead. Webber could have kept Will prisoner his whole life if he wanted so.

Hannibal turned off his Tablet and placed on the table. He looked out the window, the sunlight was illuminating everything. He looked at his watch, it was 9 a.m, he had spent three hours researching in the internet. What would he do now? Will's parents were not alive and waiting for him. The boy had actually eighteen years old, but could not take care of himself broken the way he was. He could not take him to the police nor to the hospital as this would raise questions that Hannibal could not answer without bringing trouble for himself. Hannibal considered all these things and there was only one thing to do. Hannibal would keep the boy to himself.

He had already made his decision long before he find about Will's parents, but now he was sure that there would be no impediment. David was presumed dead, but he was not David anymore, he was Will, his Will. Hannibal would provide a new identity, a new life for the boy. Just like Webber had done, but Hannibal would not make the boy's life a living hell. No. Will's life would be full of affection going forward. He would make everything possible for the boy to be happy, he would make the kid forget the days of torture and despair.

When Will wakes up, it would be the first day of the rest of his life with Hannibal. A safe and happy life.


	9. Chapter 9

**Will, the puppy – Chapter 9**

Will woke up that afternoon and for a moment he panicked. He looked around at the large and clean bedroom and he didn't know where he was, but then he realized he was lying on a soft bed and wearing pajamas and the memories of the night before came back to him

It was Hannibal's home, his new owner.

The boy sat in that big bed, quiet. Even though he was no longer wearing the collar, he did not know if he would be allowed to leave the bedroom. Hannibal had not told him what were his rules and Will didn't want to make him angry and didn't want to be punished. Hannibal had been very good to him so far, and Will didn't want to upset him.

Hannibal.

His new owner was scary. Will could see in his eyes that there lived a predator, even more dangerous than Webber, a wolf. But at the same time, that mysterious man had saved him didn't seem to want to hurt him and that made the boy confused. Hannibal was dangerous, evil by nature, and although he felt a terrible fear in Hannibal's presence, he also felt safe, after all, he had killed the monster. When Hannibal had touched him he was not intending to hurt him but to take care of him, to comfort him. This has never happened before.

He did not know how long Hannibal would continue to do so, if all this goodness was just another mask he was wearing. Webber himself sometimes had a few moments of goodness that did not last more than enough for him to get drunk again and hurt him. Will was used to the inconsistency, but he would not survive if it all happened again.

Then he heard steps approaching the door and watched as the bedroom door be opened by Hannibal who was carrying a tray in one hand. He smiled to see that Will was already awake and staring at him.

"I see you're awake. How do you feel?" He said placing the tray on the same table where Will had eaten his chicken soup.

"I'm fine, Master ... I mean ... H-Hannibal." Will stammered nervously.

Hannibal looked to the boy for a moment and the boy looked away.

"Are you hungry?" Hannibal said sitting on a chair at the table. Will nodded hesitantly. "Come eat, then." Hannibal smiled at him.

The boy looked at Hannibal for a moment before tossing the blanket aside. He stood and waited a bit. Suddenly he felt dizzy and had to sit down again on the bed or he would have fallen on the floor. He was still very weak. Hannibal stood up from his chair and walked over to the boy. For a moment, Will was afraid that Hannibal was coming toward him to hit him for not obeying his order. The psychiatrist touched his shoulder and the boy closed his eyes and flinched, waiting for a punch that never came. When he opened his eyes again a few seconds later, Hannibal looked at the boy with the tenderest of looks. The older man reached out a hand for Will to hold.

"I'll help you." Hannibal said with a smile.

Will took Hannibal's hand. The older man helped him to stand on his feet and walked beside him, supporting him until they reached the table where Will sat down heavily. Hannibal took his place on the chair in front of Will. The two looked at each other for a while before Hannibal pointing the dish in front of Will.

"It's scrambled eggs and sausage. Some protein will do you good. " Again, Hanniba mused that the boy had not understood a word of what he had just said.

Will looked at his plate with a raised eyebrow and grabbed the fork that was next to the plate.

"Thank you." Will said before taking a bite at the food.

Hannibal smiled, watching the boy's reaction. Will chewed the first bite of food and smiled slightly.

"It's good?" Will nodded smiling, Hannibal smiled again. His eyes landed on the boy's bare shoulders. "When you feel better, we will buy you clothes. You can not walk around naked. "

"Yes, Sir." Will said nodding and turning his attention to the food that was excellent.

Hannibal looked at the boy. He delighted, seeing the boy eat with enthusiasm and hearing the small sounds of pleasure that Will made every forkful. He could spend the whole afternoon just watching Will, his Will. Although he was in love with the smile of the boy, Hannibal had to talk about a subject he knew it would make his boy sad, but he had to ask.

"Will, tell me, do you remember anything before the Bad Man catch you ? Your parents home? Their names ?" Hannibal asked and saw that the boy had became tense. He put his fork down and averted his gaze.

"Not much." Will replied sincere. "Almost nothing."

Hannibal looked at the boy. He would not play games. Since the beginning, sincerity was present between the two, and it could not be different now, he could not lie to Will.

"Do you want to remember?" Hannibal asked directly. " I just found out a few things about your parents you might want to know ..."

"Are they alive?" Will asked interrupting Hannibal.

His expression was not anxious as if he had been waiting a lifetime to see them again. He was sad, as if he knew the answer somehow.

Hannibal shook his head. The boy closed his eyes and sighed.

"So I don't want to know." Will said with a trembling voice.

Hannibal understood. Will must have a romanticized image of his parents on his head, and he did not want to change that image. Somehow, this was the way Will had found to tell Hannibal that he was choosing his life with Hannibal instead of his old life now that he was free. That made Hannibal's selfish side jump for joy.

"They have looked for me?" Will asked with bright eyes.

"Yes, for a long time." Hannibal said softly.

Will nodded and lowered his head. Will didn't need to know the rest, and they would never return to this subject again. The past was past, it was dead and buried and would never came back. Will had a whole new life in front of him, a chance to be happy, and he choosed to share it with Hannibal.

"It's okay, Will." Hannibal said from the driveway of his home, looking at the boy who was paralyzed in the porch. "There's no reason to get so tense."

It was the first time that the boy set his foot out of the house since Hannibal had brought him from Webber's house, three days ago. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a jacket Hannibal had bought for him the day before, something simple, just for the boy not to leave the house in pajamas. Hannibal would take him to shop for real now, but the boy was paralyzed in the porch, afraid of the outside world.

The boy moved, walking a few hesitant steps towards Hannibal. Wow, he still seemed so fragile and weak, as if a strong wind could carry him away. Hannibal took the boy's hand and pulled him close and hugged him.

"Oh, my little one." Hannibal smiled and kissed his forehead, before leading him to the car.

Hannibal settled Will into the passenger seat and walked around the car and took his place in the driver's seat. He started the engine and hit the road to the nearest Mall.

Hannibal did not like the idea of everyone staring at Will. The boy was in need of a haircut, his stubble made him look like a homeless boy, but he had a kind of beauty that drew attention from anyone. Webber had seen it when he chosed Will, Hannibal had seen it too, and he feared that others also could see it. But the boy could not stay locked in his house for the next ten years as happened before, Will would have to interact with the world, and Hannibal would teach him how.

Hannibal had parked his car in the parking lot of the Mall and he helped Will out of the car. The boy grabbed his arm, like a child who seeks security. Hannibal smiled and they walked hand in hand to the Mall. Will had a frightened look and cringed whenever someone came too close, sometimes hiding behind Hannibal and squeezing tightly the fabric of the coat of the Doctor.

They went into four teenage fashion stores, but Hannibal did not find anything that was suitable to his boy. Everything was too exaggerated, too colorful, like a neon sign screaming 'look at me'. Will was naturally beautiful, he didn't need that kind of clothing. However, they managed to find a store that might have what they were looking for.

"Try these." Hannibal said handing Will a pair of dark jeans and a blue plaid flannel shirt.

Will looked at him with a a little bit puzzled, but he obeyed. Hannibal followed him to the dressing rooms and waited outside while the boy was changing. The boy took a while to get dressed, but he soon came out of the stall, wearing dark jeans and blue flannel shirt. The color matched perfectly with the boy's eyes.

"Did You like those, Sir?" Will asked hesitantly.

"Absolutely." Hannibal smiled amused. There was a large mirror on the wall and Will looked at it for a moment. Hannibal stood behind him and was looking at Will's face in the mirror's reflection. "Of course I'd rather see you in more sophisticated clothes, but first we'll buy what is more comfortable for you."

They left that shop with some color variations of the same set, underwear, socks, pajamas, a new wardrobe for the boy.

They were walking carrying numerous bags from the stores they had visited. Books, CDs, DVDs, clothes and more clothes. Hannibal didn't save money if it was for Will. They walked side by side, Hannibal carried all the bags while Will ate a chocolate ice cream. Hannibal was saying something about the books he had bought for Will when he looked around and saw that the boy was not by his side.

Hannibal's heart nearly stopped in that moment.

"Will?" He looked around and didn't saw the boy. "Will!" He called louder.

No, no, he could not lost Will that way. Hannibal felt fear. Hannibal turned on his heel, retracing the path, searching for the little one. He was about to look for the security of the Mall to mobilize a search party when he saw Will standing in front of a store window, looking inside. Hannibal almost ran to the boy. When he reached him, Hannibal had a worried expression.

"Don't walk away from me again!" Hannibal said, holding the boy by the arm a little harder than he intended to.

Will looked at him scared and his eyes filled with tears.

"I'm sorry ..." Will said in a low tone.

In that moment, Hannibal regretted yelling at Will. He let the bags fall to the floor and hugged the boy who sobbed.

"Oh Will, don't you know how dangerous this world is ?" Hannibal said softly to calm the boy. "Why have you wandered away from me?"

The boy was still crying and Hannibal looked at the window and then to Will. He understood everything. That was a store that sold stuffed animals. In the window, there was a stuffed dog, he looked like a yellow labrador and his eyes looked very much like Will's eyes, big and sad.

"Do you like it?" Hannibal said pulling away slightly to the boy's face who just hiccuped. Will nodded looking again to the window. The doctor smiled.

"Then it's yours." Hannibal grabbed the bags off the floor and walked into the store followed by Will.

Hannibal would buy the toy as a way to redeem himself for have made Will cry. During those few days, Hannibal had found out that Will had a special love for dogs. Hannibal would never allow a real animal in his house, but the could accept a stuffed animal.

They were leaving the store, Hannibal smiled at Will who was hugging the stuffed animal with a smile. Hannibal would do anything to see that smile again and again. He was so fascinated with the joy that Will showed in having the dog in his arms that he had not noticed the approach of a person.

"Hannibal?" A female voice called behind him and he turned.

A dark-haired woman was walking toward him. She wore a floral dress in shades of blue and she was carrying some bags of a fancy store.

"Alana?" Hannibal said blindsided.

One thing was walking around with Will in a place that nobody knew him, quite another thing was to find a colleague, even Alana Bloom.

"What a surprise to find you here." She said as she approached.

"I think I can say the same thing."

Then she noticed the presence of the boy who tried to hide behind Hannibal.

"And who is this boy?" She said smiling at him, but Will looked away.

How could Hannibal explain the kid?

"This is Will." Hannibal replied very fast.

"Hello Will." She started to get closer and the boy seemed to hide behind Hannibal cause he was afraid of her. "Who's he?" she asked Hannibal lowering her voice.

Hannibal could guees what Alana should be thinking now, seeing a eighteen years old teenager hugging a stuffed animal and hiding behind Hannibal as if he was afraid of Alana. She must be thinking that Will was one of his patients or something.

"He is the son of a friend of mine who passed away recently. I was appointed his legal guardian since the boy is ... well ... you have notice it already"

In that moment, Alana looked at the boy with eyes full of pity.

"I'm sorry about your friend Hannibal. It must be hard ." She made a slight nod toward Will.

"Will is an angel." Hannibal smiled.

"I think he is afraid of me." Alana said with a smile.

"He is shy. He is not used to strangers."

"If you need any help, do not hesitate to call me."

Only When Alana had gone did Hannibal breathed again.

"We have to be more careful."


	10. Chapter 10

**Will, the puppy – Chapter 10**

Will frowned as he hugged Winston tight in his arms. Hannibal hated to see Will with that startled look.

"But ..." Will stammered. He always did that when he was nervous. "Will you leave me here alone?" Will looked around, as if suddenly the guest bedroom (_which was now known as Will's bedroom_) had acquired a sinister aura.

"It's only for a few hours, I'll be back soon." Hannibal assured stroking the curls of the boy.

Will was sitting in bed, Hannibal was beside him, stroking his hair. He understood why the boy was afraid. During those first days Hannibal had not left his side. Will had began to associate the presence of the doctor with safety and affection. Being away even for a few hours and a few walls made the boy nervous.

Although Hannibal had enjoyed to take a few days off to stay with Will, he had a day job and patients to se. He had spent all morning in the office with patients and since the boy had overslept, he had not noticed the absence of his master until lunchtime, when the doctor came to wake him up. After lunch, Hannibal had been reading to Will for an hour since the boy could not read yet. He would have to teach him many things, but Hannibal didn't thought it would be a problem. He would have spent the rest of the afternoon like that with the boy resting his head on the lap of the doctor who was stroking his curls while reading The Hobbit aloud. But time is short and Hannibal had his obligations.

"Look, Will, I will not be far away. I'll be right here downstairs. But you must not interrupt me while I'm with a patient. Do you understand me? "Hannibal said doing everything possible not to sound like he was giving an order.

Will looked away, but nodded. Being alone would be difficult, but he would not dare to disobey his master, not when Hannibal had been so good to him. He could be quiet in his bedroom, Winston would make him company. He would be okay.

As the hours passed, Will was getting agitated. He did not like to be alone in his bedroom. It was very large and very quiet without Hannibal reading to him. But he would not go downstairs, he would not disobey Hannibal. Will remembered everything that Hannibal had done for him so far. Nobody ever cared about him, except his parents and Hannibal. But they were dead now. Will had no one else, only his master. His good, loving and generous master. Will knew Hannibal would take care od him, and he was grateful and always would be. For him, it did not matter that his master was a murderer. Hannibal had done nothing to harm him e Will felt safe now with his master.

He would behave, for Hannibal.

Hannibal looked at his watch impatiently. He did not mean to take so long with the last patient of the day, but the guy just would not stop talking. The alarm indicating the end of the therapy session had already screamed fifteen minutes ago, but it would be rude to simply kick the man out his office.

Hannibal often looked over his shoulder and kept hearing, listening for any sound that came from the rest of the house. His attention was on Will and the fact that he had not heard any noise coming from the second floor where the boy was. Silence always mean trouble. Hannibal wanted to climb the stairs and see if Will was okay and why he was so quiet, but Luke Smith kept a litany about how he was a looser, about how he was not worth it, about how all what he did was wrong. Hannibal heard this blah blah blah every Tuesday. Luke was a young man, he should be in his early thirties. He was dark haired, dark eyes. He had more money than he could spend and nothing in the head. And after four sessions in which he just kept depreciating himself, he had not opened himself for Hannibal and told what really bothered him. He was testing his patience.

"I don't know what happens," Luke said sniffling and wiping his nose with the sleeve of the most expensive and ridiculous shirt that Hannibal had ever seen. How rude. "I'm always disappointing everyone. I can't do anything right. "

Hannibal rolled his eyes without Luke noticing it and handed him a box of paper tissues. The man took one and blew his nose.

"Luke." Hannibal said sighing. "I enjoy our conversations and i really would like to help you, but obviously you still don't feel comfortable with our meetings. I can recommend another doctor if you want." Hannibal said calmly.

Luke frowned.

"Are you giving up on me?" He said with a offended tone.

"No. I'm suggesting that you may feel more comfortable with another doctor. We're not making progress."

"I'm talking to you for the past hour."

"You're talking about how you actions affect you and the people around you, but you did not tell me what you are doing. I could help you if only I knew the reason for this destructive behavior, but you do not tell me anything. I can not help you while you continue to play the victim."

The man rubbed his eyes and looked at Hannibal with disdain.

"I don't know why did I waste my time coming here."

Luke rose abruptly from the leather armchair opposite to Hannibal and walked to the door. He grabbed his coat on the coat rack near the wooden door and left the office. The doctor had to mentally count to ten not to leave his armchair and hunt the man. That was rude and Hannibal was deciding when Luke would be invited at his table.

But Hannibal didn't want to think about it, he had to check on his little one. He left the office and walked toward the stairs leading to the second floor of the house. He would see how Will was and then he would make dinner.

As he opened the door to Will's room, the doctor saw no sign of the boy, but he knew exactly where he was. With a smile, Hannibal approached the bed and knelt to look under it. Will was sleeping soundly, with Winston in his his arms and a pillow under the head. He had the most serene expression that Hannibal had ever seen.


End file.
